Chapter 10
Alessandro
I lie in bed, staring despondently at the ceiling fan.
I finished my book an hour ago and didn’t feel like starting a new one.
We’ve been in our separate rooms all evening.
I obviously called up a guard to wait outside the main door immediately after our confrontation.
But Sofia hasn’t tested me. The door remained closed.
I think about the last conversation we had.
Her admitting to me that she messed with some of the organization in my closet nearly had me bursting out laughing in front of her.
But why? I am normally obsessive about that sort of thing.
And even though it’s a simple fix, that would be something I’d typically become angry over.
Marco encouraged Vincenzo’s behavior, and most of my belongings were hand-me-downs or gifts from random people who felt sorry for the strange boy that Marco took in and then neglected. So, all I could do for the longest time afterwards was just sit there. Alone with my thoughts.
But, Marco put me to work soon after that incident anyway, so that provided me with plenty of horrible distractions.
A soft knock at the door rattles me.
She doesn’t bother waiting for my response and practically barges in. She doesn’t speak, though. Instead, she stands there with a smirk.
“Yes?” I ask, hiding my annoyance that while she’s adhering to rule number one, I can tell she’s mocking me with her face.
“I know it’s kind of early.” Her eyes flick to the clock on my nightstand: it’s only nine. “But it’s been a long day, and I want to sleep.”
“Fine.” I gesture to the other side of the bed.
“Right,” she whispers to herself, then grabs some fresh clothes and other things from her suitcases.
“I want those unpacked tomorrow.”
“I will. Sorry, sir,” she says as she closes herself in the bathroom.
What the fuck is that? Sir? I know that coming from her, she’s probably making fun of my age. But she knows that at the surface-level it’s a respectful thing to say.
And in the right context…
She’s testing me. The fear that I saw earlier has vanished.
I get out of bed and check my living room. I don’t know what I’m expecting to see—a rope hanging off the balcony for her to traverse down tonight, an open bottle of poison in my kitchen. But nothing looks out of place.
I slink back into bed before she’s finished getting ready. She steps out of the bathroom wearing short pink shorts and a plain t-shirt. I watch her toned legs walk the length of my bedroom as she smirks again, then tosses her things haphazardly into my closet.
“Put those away. In your suitcase or in the laundry,” I bark out a command, annoyed with her attitude.
She jolts at that; my voice must have carried more than I intended. But she does as I say and then avoids eye-contact as she slips into bed underneath the sheets. I let out a sigh, already exhausted from that exchange.
I turn off the lamp, leaving only a faint light coming from the window. The sound of the ceiling fan hums above us.
I should be thrilled. We successfully captured Sofia, and Vincenzo became gravely injured. My mind still can’t wrap around that. Who knows, he could wake up unscathed, but if not…
I just need to avoid getting stabbed by Sofia in the middle of the night.
My palms sweat.
She was in the bathroom for an awfully long time. Her shirt is baggy, and she could have concealed anything before getting into bed.
I flip onto my side, my mind racing. Were all the knives in the knife block? How the hell did I not think to check that when I went out there?
Her over the top fear of blood. What if that is all a ruse? A lie to make her seem weaker than she is.
Clearly, her family knew of our plan ahead of time with how things transpired this afternoon.
And she’s been training herself physically her entire life. Sure, I’m stronger than she is, but not when I’m sleeping. She can stab me right in the chest and run for probably hours at a time without tiring.
Unable to bear it anymore, I flip on the lamp, expecting to be looking down the barrel of a gun.
Instead, she’s fast asleep—I can’t fathom falling asleep that quickly. She’s not even in a safe environment, for fuck’s sake.
Testing her, I peel back the layer of blankets.
Still sleeping.
“Sofia?” I whisper her name, seeing if she’ll stir or if her eyes snap open. But nothing. I watch as her chest heaves heavy, sleepy breaths.
Deciding she’s out cold and that I’m an exceptionally paranoid person, I lift her shirt—just enough to check she’s not concealing anything. But all I can see is her toned stomach breathing in and out.
I’ve never been with an athletic woman like this before. I didn’t think I’d be into it, but I find the contradictions fascinating—her muscles toned and chiseled in some places with a womanly softness in others. She really is beautiful…
Her breathing suddenly stops.
I drop her shirt, making eye-contact with a pair of fiery-brown eyes.
“What the hell are you doing!?”
I shoot back away from her and hold my hands up in surrender, feeling guilty for getting caught looking. Then I realize I have to gain control of the situation and lean forward as she scowls at me, keeping my voice even. “I was simply checking for weapons. I thought you were going to kill me. ”
“Kill you? I was… I was fucking sleeping!” She looks me up and down. Her eyes narrow. “What did you do?”
I repeat. “You were acting strange. So, I checked to make sure you didn’t bring any weapons into bed. That’s it.”
“Did it ever occur to you I’m acting strange because of your stupid, oppressive rules?”
“I wasn’t expecting you to follow them so quickly.”
“You threatened to gouge a man’s eyes out in front of me! Of course, I started following them.”
I scoff. “Oh, come on. That’s only if he sees you practically half-naked.”
Her face shifts from anger to pure disbelief. “You think that’s actually reasonable, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I shrug. “You’re my wife.”
“Don’t call me that.” She points her finger at my face.
I grab her forearm, not hard enough to hurt her but enough to prevent her from pulling away and to get her finger out of my face. Then, I push her onto her back and crawl on top. My heart races as she lies under me.
“This whole situation is disgusting. Your family is a fucking disgrace, trying to pull that scheme today.” She laughs without humor. “You guys didn’t even manage to kill anyone important, and yet your brother got shot.”
She flinches before I even realize she shouldn't know that.
I grab her other arm and put them both over her head, pinning her even more so there’s no chance she can get away. I can feel her soft body beneath me, her warm breath on my face. She isn’t struggling now; she knows she’s messed up. She found a way to get information. Out of Antonio, I’m assuming.
“How do you know that?” I hiss.
“Je parle francais.”
I search her eyes, wondering how her speaking French has any applicable meaning to this conversation. Then it dawns on me, I spoke to Elena in front of her, assuming she wouldn’t understand anything.
I think back to that phone call, trying to figure out if I had revealed anything else to her. But this day was so insane I can’t recall that conversation.
I release her and roll onto my back. “If there’s any other information you’re concealing from me in hopes it will help you escape, it’s in your best interest to tell me now. Believe me,” I growl.
She shakes her head, still lying on her back and not looking me in the eye. “There was nothing else.”
“Good.” I turn the lamp off. “I won’t forget this little outburst tonight.”
She jerks to her side, facing away from me and says nothing.
I lie in bed with my eyes wide open. I know I will not get a minute of sleep tonight after all of that drama.